We found out I was pregnant in March of 2000. We were so excited until I started bleeding on Mother’s Day. I went to the Emergency Room and they told me there was nothing they could do- it was a threatened abortion and to make an appointment with my doctor. Heartbroken, they sent me home.
My doctor said the baby was still there but the bleeding continued. My baby was strong and was still holding on. We found out the baby was a boy and we decided to name him after his father; Miguel Angel Jr.

However, I kept getting worse. One night we were watching tv and I felt some pain so I got up and the couch pillow was soaked with blood. We rushed to the Emergency Room. They gave me Magnesium which burned up my veins. I lost so much blood I needed a transfusion. After my son and I were stabilized they told me I had Placenta Previa. My placenta was on my cervix under my baby so every time I moved the weight of the baby would press against the placenta and cut little vessels. I was told I should have been on bed rest. I bled every day for 7 weeks and I should have known what was going on with my baby.

I stayed a week at the hospital and when I reached 20 weeks I was allowed to go home on STRICT bed rest. My doctor reminded me that I had to make it to at least 24 weeks. Being at home with two young children while on strict bed rest was hard. My husband would help me to the restroom and in just those five steps it would be too much and I would black out.

Another week passed and one night I felt really weird. I stayed in bed but had no appetite. When my husband came home I was getting pains again.. We decided to go to the Emergency Room. In just a matter of minutes I was giving birth to my 21 week old son. The doctor on staff reminded me there was nothing they could do for a baby that small. They also told me the placenta detached and he died of cardiac arrest inside of me. The doctor told me my baby suffered and died inside of me… My baby suffered… Didn’t get to take a breath… Didn’t get to let out a cry of pain… Didn’t get to know life.

They wheeled me into the I.C.U. where I was allowed to hold my baby… My tiny precious 14 oz shell of a baby. I only knew him on the inside and now I was meeting him for the first time on the outside and his soul was already gone. I laid with him on my chest and the nurses told me i could keep him with me as long as i needed. The next day I was allowed to escort my son to the morgue. They had a tiny black body bag for him. My son was being taken from me and he was going to be alone in the morgue… In a bag… Everything else became a blur… I left the hospital broken…

We went to the funeral home and made arrangements… We decided we wanted to have him cremated so we could keep him with us always… I didn’t want to know a life where I had to mourn a child… I didn’t know how to cope with the pain so I withdrew… I tried to be happy but I was wounded… I couldn’t move past my pain I was 20 years old when this happened I didn’t know how to deal with that kind of pain. It took me a long time to realize that there was nothing that I could do that would have saved my son. God had a reason for taking my son even though the answer still eludes me to this day. The pain never ends… 14 years after the fact it’s still as hard as it ever was… It gets a little easier to carry on each day but I know that I’ll see my son again one day in Heaven.

Junior- I only knew you for 21 weeks but we are very grateful for the weeks we had with you… You left your footprints all over mommy and daddy’s hearts. Not a day goes by where we don’t miss you. I love you my sweet son.